“Damn… don’t take yourself out. Let me help you.”
Hands grab at my arm to pull me up, but I’m too far gone. I’m in the trenches of the past, tumbling down a rabbit hole of bad memories that still feel all too real.
“NO!” I scream hysterically, twisting to push back at theman. Iclawat him, glasses crooked on my face and heart punching away inside my chest. “Get your hands off me!”
“Hey, easy. I’m just?—”
“Let go of her!” comes the rumble of a familiar voice.
But familiar in a way that makes some of the panic recede. Familiar in a way that makes me feel like I can breathe again.
I go from desperately flailing and clawing against the boxer who’s stooped over to help me up to scrambling back, heaving air into my lungs.
Killian’s materialized and snatched the guy by the back of his neck. He’s hauled him off me and then shoves him against the wall, tossing a grown-ass man around like he’s weightless.
He traps him there with his arm barred across his throat as he glares into his face, one second away from tearing him to shreds.
“Did she give you permission to fucking touch her?” he barks. “Keep your hands off her if you want to keep those hands, you got that?”
The guy’s eyes bulge wide as he stammers, “I-I was… I was just?—”
“I don’t want to hear it! Get outta my face!”
The guy clambers to escape the moment Killian lets go and steps back. He darts straight for the back of the gym, shoving past onlookers.
I’ve pushed myself up on my knees and fixed my glasses. I reach for my backpack, a hot prickle of embarrassment passing over me.
The once loud gym is silent. It’s quiet as a mouse as everyone stands still and watches in shock.
I’ve not only made a fool of myself, I almost got some guy beat up because he was trying to help me. Could this have been more of a disaster?
Killian turns to me, gleaming with more sweat than anyone, hair plastered on his brow. He’s obviously comingfrom the middle of his own workout, his adrenaline buzzing and veins twitching.
But as he steps forward and pulls me up to my feet and I chance a look at him, I realize he’s not mad.
The fury has drained from his face. His brow’s furrowed by what seems to be… concern?
“You got everything?” he asks.
He’s talking about the stuff I dropped. I nod dumbly, then let him escort me toward the gym doors.
We walk half a block in tense, uncertain silence until Killian stops us altogether and eases me to face him.
“You breathing or you about to pass out?”
My lungs shudder inside my ribcage as I desperately drag more air through them. I offer another nod as my answer, still too shaken to provide any words.
“You came by looking for me?”
Yet another nod.
“You lost your key?”
And another.
He drags his hand across his scruffy jaw and then mutters, “I figured. Seems I’m not the only forgetful one.”
“I don’t know where I put it,” I croak breathlessly. “I didn’t realize until I left the Banshee. Then I figured I’d stop by the gym and?—”
